


Somewhere safer where the feeling stays

by hoesthetic



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 2000s, Best Friends, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Pining, Skateboarding, Teen Angst, set in 2006, teenagers being teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23203081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoesthetic/pseuds/hoesthetic
Summary: Even as best friends, Mark wouldn’t call them inseparable.Mark was there when Donghyuck got his eyebrow pierced and he was there when he almost broke his wrist. Donghyuck was there when the school almost didn’t let him pass a year and Donghyuck waited for him when he had to sit in detention for having a Swiss army knife in his backpack.But inseparable? No. Mark isn’t dependent on him.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 30
Kudos: 218





	Somewhere safer where the feeling stays

**Author's Note:**

> this is a (bad) fic version of all 2007 pop punk emo songs and skins gen 1.
> 
> the title is from like a hurricane by neil young  
> warnings: some period typical casual internalized homophobia (although slight), underage alcohol consumption and mentions of smoking. mentions and allusions to sexual content bc they r horny teenagers but not actual explicit content. this is a very teen fic.
> 
> enjoy!

“My parents are getting a divorce.”

Donghyuck’s voice is wavering and unsure around the edges, with Mark only hearing his words before even seeing him. He proceeds to sit down next to him before Mark has time to straighten his posture or turn his head around. Donghyuck lets out a quiet sigh and tucks his hands underneaths his thighs, sitting on them.

Mark turns his head to look at him, nibbling on the flesh of his lower inner lip. 

“I’m sorry,” Mark gets this out of his mouth, quiet but sincere, almost getting lost to the breeze. Donghyuck doesn’t respond, staring to the grey asphalt of the hole in the ground. A skateboarding rink is just a hollow in the concrete, after all. 

Mark shuffles closer, small stones on the ground scraping the back of his jeans, wrapping his arm around Donghyuck’s shoulders. He sighs again, a small sound, breath of air to Mark’s neck where he buries his face. His black hair tickles the edge of Mark’s jawbone.

The day, or afternoon, is lovely enough, or something like this. It’s one of those days when the wind blows calmly, the sky is clear with the exception of a few clouds, and it’s late enough for the sun not to shine uncomfortably although it’s warm. It’s nice, if not a bit strangely melancholic. 

He rubs his thumb over the fabric of Donghyuck’s graphic t-shirt, an awkward gesture of comfort. There’s thoughts running through Mark’s mind in a quick pace, unempathetic and harsh ones, such as _well, they won’t be able to argue anymore,_ and while it may be true, Mark knows better than to say it aloud. He’s not that stupid, even if he is somewhat a fool. 

He can’t really relate to it, his parents having been together his entire life. No words at all is better than empty words, and Mark is sure Donghyuck agrees. Donghyuck gets it, he always does, despite what the matter is. Just like two plus two equals four, it just goes like that. No questions asked, weirdly comforting.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, still, because there’s always a flaw in his logic. Mark’s like that. It comes out awkward, uncomfortably lame, and he crunches his nose and cringes at himself since Donghyuck can’t see his face. Donghyuck makes a muffled sound to his skin that he dubs as a no. 

Mark’s skateboard is sitting abandoned on the ground on his right side while Donghyuck is on the left. Something ugly and sappy like the two most persistent thing in his life, one for each hand of his. 

“All of this is so fucking stupid,” Donghyuck mumbles after a while. Mark replies with a strangled noise from the back of his throat, something like agreement. It fucking sucks. He looks down to their laps, how Donghyuck’s arms are littered with plastic-y faux leather bracelets, those with studs on them. 

Both of them had seen it coming, most likely. If Mark had, then so had Donghyuck since he is the one living with them. There isn’t a surprised bone in him, just jittery feelings and an uncomfortable hug of not being able to comfort. Silence is easy, between them at least, but not like this. 

“I’m sorry,” Mark repeats, lapping his cracked bottom lip with his tongue before biting on it. Donghyuck huffs dryly. 

“Don’t apologize,” he says, voice flat. Mark hears him mumble something like _idiot_ and it makes him smile shortly and well, bittersweetly. 

Mark tries to find words to say, but none come to his mind. He keeps his mouth shut, armpit pressed against Donghyuck’s shoulder and he hopes he doesn’t sweat through. Donghyuck would probably laugh, call him gross and Mark would call him disgusting. It _would_ happen, but it doesn’t because they sit in silence. 

Until Donghyuck breaks that silence, that is, and it happens with him pulling back from underneath Mark’s arm. 

“‘Kay, let’s do something. I’m done with being a weakass baby,” Donghyuck says and he has to take a second to blink and consider his voice of words. Mark breaks into a smile after that second. 

“You’re always a weakass baby, even if you’re rolling,” he says, getting up. Mark looks around briefly before noticing what’s missing. “You didn’t bring your board?” 

“Left in a hurry. It would’ve been awkward to walk across the house again just to get it,” Donghyuck shrugs his shoulders. “Do you have money on you? Let’s go to get food or something.”

“I have money if we’re getting McDonald’s,” Mark says after a moment of thinking, a lazy grin on his lips. Donghyuck narrows his eyes, getting up from the ground. 

“You’re so full of shit. McDonald’s it is, then,” he says. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Even as best friends, Mark wouldn’t call them inseparable. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t like being around Donghyuck, because he does, he does like it a lot. 

They met around the time Donghyuck moved to the shitty town of theirs, which was three-four years ago. At the same godforsaken skatepark Mark has been visiting ever since he got his first board. The same high school with Mark sometimes seeing him in the cafeteria, with the age difference of a year, _blah, blah, blah,_ they still ended up being friends. Because of the park—so Mark is thankful for the park. 

Because of this, they are still as close as before despite Donghyuck having dropped out—apparently high school isn’t just for him. People don’t really approach Mark, not because he looks intimidating or cool (like Donghyuck does), but because he doesn’t—and people don’t notice him around. He has a friend, or two, and sometimes they’re a bit mean, but so is Mark. God bless the summer break.

A bad posture, awkward gangly limbs and feeling weird in his body. It’s like that. 

And sometimes Mark wonders what is there to like about him. Donghyuck, while an outsider, is still interesting and cool, being the unique himself despite others looking at him weirdly at times. While Mark is just… he is just Mark. 

It’s such a stupid cliché to feel, the protagonist of a shitty teen movie where your ordinary girl from next door falls for the perfect boy who is out of her league. Or something like that. Mark doesn’t like it, but it doesn’t change how he is just him, a boy in a ratty graphic t-shirt and a skateboard underneath his arm, hair dirty from not being washed from in four days. Eyes too big, hair too long. Always too much or too little.

It’s not that Mark sees himself as something inherently bad or unlikable, but sometimes Donghyuck looks at him with something that looks scarily like admiration—not even that, but Mark doesn’t know a word for the look—and it raises questions in his mind. He doesn’t get it. 

Mark was there when Donghyuck got his eyebrow pierced and he was there when he almost broke his wrist. Donghyuck was there when the school almost didn’t let him pass a year and Donghyuck waited for him when he had to sit in detention for having a Swiss army knife in his backpack. 

But inseparable? No. Mark isn’t dependent on him. 

The evening is chilly but Mark doesn’t shiver in his thin hoodie. The tomato sauce stain on it is visible even in the dimness. Like this, the sounds of the wheels rolling and his breathing are loud. Not as loud as Donghyuck’s naggy voice somewhere below him, while Mark is up on the ramp, and then down, rolling, the breeze and his hair getting all messed up—not that it was ever neat to start with. 

Just some minutes ago, the sky was yellow, orange, and Donghyuck had looked golden. But it’s not like Mark had dwelled on it or anything, not that he’s still thinking about it. He isn’t. 

There’s a weird sense of restlessness set in his bones, and Mark jumps off his board and watches as it rolls forward until it hits the rising cement of another ramp. He should stop doing that, the wood will crack and break and who the fuck Mark get him a new board if he messes up this one? 

“Are you gonna look for a job?” Mark asks without turning his head towards Donghyuck. He had been complaining about it—the time, how much he has in his hands now that he isn’t attending anymore. Mark doesn’t want to go back to school. He’d rather have too much time. 

“I gotta,” Donghyuck mumbles. “My parents would murder me. That isn’t too bad but you know.” 

Mark smiles shortly, walking to his skateboard. 

“Get one in retail. Wanna come and see you,” he hums, stepping on the board. He doesn’t bother to pick up a fast pace, just lazily rolls towards Donghyuck. He’s sitting on his board in the middle of the asphalt, and Mark’s surprised to see he doesn’t have a cigarette in his hand. He doesn’t comment on it. 

They’ve been there for quite some time, long enough to see the vast sky change in colours and the weather get colder. Mark sits down in front of Donghyuck. 

“If you say so,” Donghyuck says with a lopsided grin. The metal jewelry in his brow glimmers eerily in the dark, in a similar way to how his lips look wet and glossy. Mark knows it’s vaseline. 

“You’ll just do everything I tell you to?” Mark jokes. A quick flash of discomfort passes by his body—it isn’t supposed to go like this, these aren’t their roles, _Mark_ is supposed to do whatever _Donghyuck_ tells him to, even if it was just a joke. 

It’s only after Donghyuck barks out a laugh that the discomfort flattens down and the realization of _how dumb of him_ settles down. But that, as itself, is as uncomfortable. 

“No, but this is an exception, you see.” 

“Aha. That sucks. Kinda wanted you to do shit for me.” 

“You’re too ominous. What kinda shit?” 

“It doesn’t matter if you won’t do it for me,” Mark sticks out his tongue in a childish manner. Donghyuck doesn’t look too impressed by it. 

Mark pulls his knees up, curling his arms around them and props his chin down. 

“I just don’t wanna go back to school,” he sighs. Donghyuck reaches out and pats his shoulder. 

“It’s your last year,” he says, like trying to comfort. Mark rolls his eyes. 

“I know,” it’s not louder than a mumble.

“See? You’re smart.” 

It makes Mark laugh, surprisingly enough. Or maybe it isn’t a surprise because he always laughs at Donghyuck’s jokes, or the things he says that aren’t really even jokes. 

“Thanks,” he says with a smile on his lips. Donghyuck looks pleased, a grin on his lips as well. He nods but doesn’t say anything more about it. Mark shifts on his butt, the skateboard moving as he does. It’s getting darker. 

“You should get a haircut,” Donghyuck says suddenly, reaching out again, moving the hair from Mark’s forehead. 

“Should I?” Mark tilts his head. 

“It’s too long,” he shrugs his shoulders.

“I can just cut it myself.”

“Oh no, don’t. Or like, you do you, but that could be a fucking disaster,” Donghyuck’s voice sounds a bit horrified. Mark smiles as he looks down to the ground. Something makes him nervous, shy, about it. 

“You’re right,” he tells him, but it comes out quieter than intended. Mark doesn’t really know what’s up with that, but hey, they say being a teenager is confusing so maybe that’s it. Maybe everything is just that.

“Of course I am,” Donghyuck grins. He’s full of himself but it’s not even annoying. He needs to get his feelings sorted out, this is clear to him if something is. 

Mark wants to ask him that why they’re still there, it’s late and there’s nothing to do around here if not skating, and they’re just sitting. It’s hard to comprehend that Donghyuck would want to spend time like this, with him. Or maybe there isn’t a reason and Mark’s just being stupid, as always.

The streetlamp on this corner of the park is broken so they sit in the dark. It feels a little easier like this and Mark doesn’t need to sweat buckets when he gets uncomfortable, awkward, embarrassed or just shy. He sweats easily, flushes, gets nervous. It’s a frustrating trait to have. 

Oh well. The darkness hides it now. 

When Mark gets home, it’s 11pm and his mom starts nagging at him. Apparently having a phone is a waste of time if he won’t answer her calls since that’s the reason they got him the phone. Mark apologizes and hugs her. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Turns out it’s not for the best, the divorce. Donghyuck’s parents keep being a mess, or two messes, now separately, and Donghyuck is stuck in between two walls with nowhere to go, except to Mark’s place, it seems. Some twisted, bad part in him finds it almost comforting, to mean something essential to Donghyuck. It’s not good. It’s really bad, in fact.

But Mark isn’t really thinking about that right now, as they’re sitting in Donghyuck’s dad’s car, in front of his new apartment building. Maybe he’s just someone to pass the time with, no one necessary, no one important.

There’s a nervous feeling in the stuffy air, Mark looking out of the window to the parking lot, both of them more or less unmoving. It makes him anxious in his stomach, like—like he should say something, or do, something to fix the hints of sadness on Donghyuck’s face. He knows Donghyuck doesn’t know he has noticed it. But it’s impossible not to.

It’s a strange thing. It’s sort of like only them exist there, stuck in the small space smelling of old cigarettes, the squeaking of the old red seats. Like it’s just them and the little details, and nothing else matters.

Mark shifts his foot and hits the plastic bag on the floor, first the rustle and then slight clinking, all happening in fast motions. It’s Donghyuck’s dad’s, his alcohol. He probably doesn’t remember they are there, or care to, either way.

”Should we take them?” Mark nods at the bag. In a weird way it feels inappropriate, not the choice of words but the fact of saying something aloud.

Donghyuck is quiet for a second before he smiles. He looks tired, but also not tired. There aren’t bags under his eyes. It’s just _flat._

”Sure, cowboy.”

So Mark picks them up, placing them in his lap and waiting for Donghyuck to move first, for him to say with his body _I’m alright, it’s all cool, let’s just go, the apartment is empty, it’s waiting for us, we are young and free._

But when Donghyuck moves it doesn’t really say much. Just ordinary motions. Mark doesn’t know why he expected otherwise. He opens the car door and steps out and Mark does the same, picking up the bag, and the jittery nervousness doesn’t fade even in the summer evening air. He wants to scratch the itch off but he knows that won’t help.

Mark follows Donghyuck into the apartment building. His dad isn’t home, Donghyuck didn’t specify where he went but Mark isn’t even too sure if he knows. It’s so weird, to know so much about Donghyuck and at the same time have him be a little mystery. Mark wants to open him up and read him like a book, even though he knows he’s a slow reader with awful concentration, and find out what his deal is. This, of course, is just wishful thinking. 

The loft is in the fifth floor but there isn’t an elevator so they walk up the stairs, still in silence. There’s a nagging thought in the back of Mark’s head—silence didn’t use to be so awkward with him. What changed? Is it just the mood, just the knowledge that Donghyuck obviously isn’t happy and Mark has no idea what to do to fix it? Mark can’t fix shit. 

When they are finally on the right floor, Mark’s palm is a little sweaty and red from dragging up the plastic bag. They walk into the apartment, take off their sneakers and head straight to the living room. Donghyuck slouches down lazily and doesn’t look at him. It feels too self-important to think so but it comes off as him avoiding Mark’s eyes. Does he know? But then, know what, exactly? 

Mark sits down next to him but leaves space between them. He takes a bottle out of the bag. It reads lemon gin on the label. Without asking for permission, he opens it and takes a sip. He wants to grimace at the taste but keeps his composure. Mark offers the bottle to Donghyuck without saying anything, or even looking at him. He takes it.

The apartment is empty, not having much furniture in it yet and the walls are completely blank. It feels lonely and cold. He wants to curl against Donghyuck’s side to keep warm and that’s an ugly realization. Mark tugs the sleeves of his poison green hoodie over his palms. The hems are torn and threads hanging down messily. 

“Are you okay?” Mark asks, his voice trembling just the slightest bit and he hates it. It feels so uncomfortable to ask it like that. Donghyuck snorts. He turns to look at him but Donghyuck is just facing the window. Mark wants to see his face and read his expression. 

“Why are you asking?” He asks instead of answering.

“You don’t—I don’t know,” Mark gives up before even properly starting, “nevermind.” 

“Idiot,” Donghyuck mumbles and he swears he can hear some tenderness in it, but it must be just wishful thinking, it must. 

“Fuck you,” Mark mumbles back. 

“In your dreams.”

He almost, almost, flushes at the joke, for it rings true. Mark has spent a lot of time trying to forget the way he dreams and the shame he feels when he wakes up with damp underwear. 

“You wish,” he chokes out instead. 

“Yeah, because you’re so irresistible,” Donghyuck says, and his sarcastic tone screams that it’s a joke but Mark still feels some sort of a way about it. It makes him sick to his stomach.

“Give me the bottle,” he demands. Donghyuck finally turns his face towards him, his mouth in a crooked smirk and brows raised, fingers clutched around the gin. 

“Come get it,” Donghyuck says and it sounds like a challenge. Without thinking about it, Mark lurges forward to wrestle it out of his hold but it’s a bad choice because suddenly his chest is pressed against Donghyuck’s side and he just so _close._

Donghyuck shrieks and holds the bottle as far from him as possible. Mark decides to indulge him because then Donghyuck is laughing and he just wants to make him smile. 

“Give it to me,” Mark whines and shoves his hands under Donghyuck’s arms to tickle him. 

“Alright, alright, stop!” He voices through his giggles. Mark’s grinning like an idiot but he withdraws his hands. Donghyuck keeps his promise and shoves the bottle to his chest. Mark can see his sternum rising and falling with his deep breaths. 

Mark hopes his ears don’t look as red as they feel, and if they do, he hopes Donghyuck dubs it as just flush from laughing. He drinks from the bottle and doesn’t think about the fact how it’s an indirect kiss. 

The mood is lighter after that. Mark doesn’t know what’s so heavy on Donghyuck’s heart but he can only guess it has something to do with his parents.

“How’s the job hunting going?” Mark asks. The liquor burns in his throat. 

“Amazing,” Donghyuck says, voice dripping with sarcasm, “but I’ll stop by Hot Topic tomorrow. Maybe they’d hire the authentic me.”

“They’d make you wear that eye-stuff.”

“Eye-stuff?” Donghyuck asks.

“Like, eyeshadow? The raccoon looking makeup?” Mark says but it comes out like a question. 

“Ah,” he nods in understanding, “you think it’d suit me?”

“If you wanna look like a girl,” he says and he knows it’s not really fair to say. It’s better than calling him a faggot, which would’ve been the first impulse. But Mark knows that would make him vulnerable—a target for _I think that’s you._

Donghyuck laughs, anyway.

“Girls are pretty,” he says. Why does it hurt, Mark doesn’t really know. 

“You wanna be pretty?” 

“I’d settle for handsome. Do you think I’m handsome, Mark?” Donghyuck asks him and looks at him with a sleazy grin. 

Yes, of course, would be the true answer. Donghyuck with his tan skin and red-black plaid skinny jeans. Donghyuck with his curved cupid’s brow and brown eyes. Donghyuck with his dark hair swept across his forehead and delicate hands with ripped hangnails.

“You’re fucking ugly,” Mark says instead. 

“Don’t break my heart like that,” Donghyuck huffs, “I thought you loved me.”

Mark wants to scream at him and tell him to stop saying shit like that. 

“Sorry to break it to you, you remind me more of a shoe sole than a person,” he mumbles, and wonders, how far is too far. 

“Brave of you to say that,” Donghyuck says and pokes him in the side, “as if you looked like a model yourself. Cut your fucking hair, you start to look more like a soaked rat a day by day.”

Mark shakes his head, like in disappointment.

“You cut it if you want it so bad,” he says. Donghyuck is quiet for a second.

“Alright, then,” he says and stands up, “get up.”

Mark does as told, albeit hesitantly. Donghyuck walks out of the room and Mark follows him. He heads to the bathroom and then points at the bathtub.

“Sit there and take your shirt off,” Donghyuck says. 

“What?” Mark asks, confused. He stares at him with disbelief.

“Imma cut your hair,” he tells him, confidently, “unless you’re a pussy.”

“I’m not a pussy,” Mark huffs.

“Then do as I said.”

He isn’t going to back up now so Mark steps into the bathtub and sits down, pulling off his hoodie and shirt. He crosses his arms over his chest immediately and brings his knees up to cover as much as he can, suddenly self-conscious and embarrassed.

Mark watches as Donghyuck takes a pair of scissors and a comb out of the bathroom cabinet and walks to him, stepping into the tub as well and pushing his back to make space. Donghyuck sits behind him. 

It’s not a good idea. Not at all. Mark feels the embarrassed flush rise again, horribly conscious of the acne on his back and how it’s revealed to Donghyuck this close, this intimate. It’s not like that even in locker rooms where he can quickly pull on and off a shirt and move along.

Donghyuck starts combing his hair and it’s gentler than he expected. 

“You could be a hairdresser,” Mark comments. Donghyuck tugs his hair as a response.

“That’s gay,” he says and Mark pretends it doesn’t sting, it doesn’t feel like anything at all and just laughs. 

“Have you ever done this before?” He asks, also pretending that he isn’t nervous his hair turning out awful. 

“No,” Donghyuck says bluntly. 

“Ah,” Mark mumbles. 

Mark can feel the cold metal of the scissors press against his neck and he hopes for the last time Donghyuck doesn’t accidentally stab him or cut off his ear. Then there’s a _snip_ and Mark can feel hair falling down, tickling against his bare back. 

The light in the bathroom is yellow and unflattering and Mark tries not to stop to think how deformed he might look to Donghyuck. 

Donghyuck hums a song, one of those pop punks he listens to. Mark has still been only listening to the Eminem compilation album he got for last christmas. It’s not him who’s as well reversed in music and pop culture as Donghyuck.

But otherwise they are quiet and it’s just the sound of the snipping and their breathing. It feels kinda nice, to have someone do this to him, carefully and gently. It reminds him of being a kid and having his mom cut his hair in the backyard.

“Turn around,” Donghyuck says after a while. He shuffles around and faces him but keeps his eyes down. He just can’t look him in the eye. Donghyuck touches his chin to lift his head up a little and Mark feels like dying. 

He combs his hair and Mark shuts his eyes and keeps them closed. Donghyuck cuts the hair on the sides of his head, over his ears and then moves to his fringe. Mark is breathing carefully through his nose, trying not to move, and his heart is fluttering anxiously. Donghyuck has stopped humming, too. 

It doesn’t take long before Donghyuck is coming through his hair again, then ruffles it.

“Aight, I’m finished,” he says. Mark opens his eyes to see him putting the scissors down. Donghyuck moves his hands to his shoulders to brush off the cut hair, his palms warm against his skin, and then reaches further to do the same to his back. It’s almost like a hug and Mark is holding his breath, and only when he withdraws is that he can breathe again. 

“Go look,” Donghyuck tells him, sounding pleased with his creation. The anxiety over the outcome is back again but Mark gets up and shakes his shoulders a little. He steps out and walks to the mirror. 

It’s—it’s not bad. 

“Huh,” he says. 

“Good, right?” Donghyuck asks. 

Mark leans closer to the window to study it. It’s a little messy, as expected, but it does look presentable. He doesn’t know what the back is like but he can only guess it’s around the same level. He looks at Donghyuck and nods.

“Thank you,” he says and means it. Donghyuck looks happy. It makes it worth it. He’s not drunk, either, the few sips he took isn’t enough to get him there. 

The hair sticks to his skin and when he pulls his shirt back on, it’s quite uncomfortable and makes him want to squirm. Donghyuck tells him that he’ll deal with the hair in the bathtub later, but Mark thinks by that he means leaving it in there as a little surprise for his dad. He wouldn’t judge. 

They never finish the gin and Mark can’t shake off the feeling Donghyuck’s hands on his bare skin left him with.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Mark is jolted awake by the sound of his cell phone ringing. 

At first, he’s disoriented and confused. It takes him a second to remember that he did, in fact, fall asleep somewhere around ten pm instead of staying up playing games till three am. He rubs his eyes and looks at the clock on his desk. It’s one am.

Mark reaches for his phone, eyes squinted looking at the green-yellowish screen of his Nokia. He answers it a little hesitantly.

“Donghyuck?” He asks, voice hoarse and thick with sleep. 

“Maark,” Donghyuck sing-songs in the call, “come get me.”

He sounds so obviously wasted Mark can’t help but feel a wave of concern wash over him. 

“Where are you?” He asks, because the truth is that Mark would always be ready to drop anything and everything for him, and that’s very fucking pathetic. He sits up and kicks his blanket off. He doesn’t feel so tired anymore.

Donghyuck slurs the street name. It’s close by to his high school and it’s not far.

“Okay, okay, just wait there, I’ll be there in, shit, twenty,” Mark says. 

“Okay…” Donghyuck mumbles. He doesn’t dare to end the call so he just places his phone on his desk and changes his clothes on record speed. His mouth feels awful and that’s when he realizes skipping brushing his teeth last night but it’s not on the top on his list of priorities. Mark grabs his phone, the call now disconnected, and a mostly empty backpack on the floor and shoves his skateboard in it. 

He rushes out of the house, not without stopping by the kitchen to take a bottle of water with him and shoving it to the bag as well. 

Mark almost trips on his feet trying to run and pull his board out of his backpack but eventually he succeeds. It’s not a cold night, luckily. He still had pulled a thin beanie over his head. 

He’s pretty sure it takes him less time than expected because soon he’s taking the last turn before the street Donghyuck told he’d be waiting in. Mark just hopes he’ll be there. 

And for the safety of his heart, he is. Mark can spot him sitting on the sidewalk, head pressed to his knees, looking small. It’s a suburban street, a cul-de-sac. 

“Donghyuck,” he yells, but not too loud not to wake up the sleeping residents. Donghyuck lifts up his head, seeming confused, but then realizes who it is who’s calling him. 

“Mark!” Donghyuck says and gets up as Mark stops by him. 

“Are you alright?” Is the first question he gets out, stepping off his board and picking it up. Donghyuck smiles goofily. The streetlights are dim. 

“Good, now that you’re here,” he says and pokes Mark in the chest with more force than necessary. 

Mark wants to ask him why did he exactly call him, but it’s not that much of an enigma. Donghyuck couldn’t possibly go home in this state and Mark isn’t exactly sure if he would be able to even find his way. He smiles shortly.

“I got you water,” he says and pulls the bottle out of his backpack, giving it to Donghyuck who takes it reluctantly. He doesn’t open it, just holds it in his hands. Donghyuck steps closer, eyes curious, studying him like a predator its prey. Mark wants to back off but he can’t bring himself to move. 

“Wanna kiss you,” Donghyuck slurs incoherently. At first Mark isn’t sure if he misheard but there is no way he did. 

“You’re drunk,” Mark says, even though he just wants to say yes, please, please. It’s bad and it’s wrong, of course, but it’s what his body is aching for. Donghyuck leans closer but Mark’s eyes cast down.

“Don’t,” Mark whispers softly. There’s no way Donghyuck will remember it tomorrow and he doesn’t want to take advantage of him like that. To have a taste of something he could never have is simply brutal. 

But Mark, he likes Donghyuck _so much._ He never expected himself to feel such cliché things, overdone and overplayed, done and known, but he’d rather hide his feelings for eternity if it meant keeping Donghyuck around.

Donghyuck goes quiet and steps back, stumbling a little but he doesn’t fall. 

“Let’s go,” Mark says, “sleep over at mine.” 

He seems to have forgotten what happened a second ago because then he nods cheerily and finally opens the bottle of water and starts chugging it down. 

Mark takes this as his change to put the skateboard in his bag. He takes Donghyuck’s wrist in his hand and tells himself it’s just so he won’t fall behind. 

“How much did you even drink?” Mark asks as they walk to his house. Donghyuck shrugs his shoulders. 

“I—mmh, not even that much…” he mumbles. 

“Sure,” Mark laughs and it makes Donghyuck giggle too even though he probably doesn’t know what he’s laughing at. It ends abruptly.

“My…” Donghyuck starts, “mom, she, she has another man, already.” 

It comes out of nowhere and Mark doesn’t really know what to say. 

“Already?” Mark asks.

“Already,” Donghyuck repeats, “so, so she must have cheated, right?”

He doesn’t want to answer that. 

“I don’t know,” Mark says and tightens his hold around Donghyuck’s wrist. 

“Do you know anything?” Donghyuck asks and he can’t really pinpoint the tone of his voice, so just to be safe he chuckles.

“You know that I don’t,” Mark says.

“Damn right…”

They walk the rest of the way quietly, Donghyuck finishing the bottle of water and throwing it to a bush. It’s a bit of a struggle to get Donghyuck inside the house without making too much noise. Mark knows his parents won’t care if he sleeps over but them spotting him wasted is another matter. 

Mark has to help him to take off his shoes and support his back so he won’t fall when walking up the stairs. Donghyuck stumbles right to his bed and rolls to the side next to the wall. 

“You, next to me,” he says, patting the bed. Mark is too exhausted to argue so he lays next to him, not bothering to change his clothes. If Donghyuck is going to sleep in his jeans, so can he. 

“G’night, Mark,” Donghyuck mumbles. He looks so tired Mark’s heart aches a little. 

“Good night,” he says softly. Donghyuck closes his eyes and it’s only now that Mark notices the dark makeup around his eyes. Maybe he got the Hot Topic job after all, or things are changing, for the both of them. 

Donghyuck rolls, assumably in his sleep, against his side and Mark just can’t find it in himself to push him away. 

In the morning when Mark wakes up, Donghyuck is gone. The clock on the desk says 11 am. It’s his first instinct to check his phone and to his relief, there is a text from Donghyuck. It’s been sent at 9am and it’s not long, just him thanking him and saying he went home to throw up for the following hours but didn’t dare to wake Mark up.

So there’s no reason for panic. Donghyuck probably doesn’t even remember anything. It’s all okay.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s a few days later when Donghyuck texts him a message that leaves a lot to interpretation. Wanna come look at the stars, is the question he asks.

Mark was going to go to bed. Or that was what he was planning to say to his parents and then lock himself to his room and game and jack off. He stares at the text for a while before responding positively because of course, of course he wants to. He’s head over heels for Donghyuck. 

Mark has been trying to admit this to his mirror the past days. He hasn’t been able to say it aloud. I like boys is too hard to say and I like Donghyuck is even harder. 

They meet at the skatepark. Mark notices that there’s a new graffiti on one of the ramps. Donghyuck is skateboarding and Mark can’t help but admire. He has always been a lot better than him. Donghyuck spots him standing there after a second. 

“What’s up,” he greets Donghyuck when he rolls to him. 

“Not my self-esteem,” he says and sits down, “how bad was I on Friday?” 

Mark sits down next to him and shakes his head with a laugh. 

“Not worse than usual,” he says, then hesitates, “although you mentioned that your mom…?”

“That she got a new man? Yeah. That’s the reason I went to the party in the first place. I was so mad. Not for that she’s happy but that it’s more than likely she fucking cheated. How could she do that?” Donghyuck sounds so upset it breaks his heart. 

“Can you be sure?” Mark asks, even though he isn’t sure at all if that’s the right move. 

“I’m 99% sure. Like he’s almost ready to move in with her. I wish she would’ve told me if nothing else. Does she think I’m stupid? That I wouldn’t put the two and two together. I bet that’s why my dad is drinking more than he used to, too.” 

Mark is starting to think that Donghyuck didn’t actually ask him there to watch the stars, the idea seeming a bit silly now, but to vent about his frustrations. Mark doesn’t mind. 

“That fucking sucks,” is all he can say. Donghyuck nods in agreement and lets out a frustrated sigh before laying on his back on the asphalt. Mark lies down next to him. 

“You don’t say,” Donghyuck sighs. 

“Do you think you’ll move in with your dad?” 

Donghyuck rubs his face with his palms.

“I have no fucking idea,” he says and sounds so hopeless. 

Mark stays quiet and just stares at the sky. If he focuses, he can see the stars.

“Did Hot Topic hire you at least?” He asks. Donghyuck chuckles lowly.

“You think I wouldn’t tell you if they did?” 

Mark hadn’t thought about that. To be fair, it’s what he thinks, but he doesn’t want to admit it so instead he just shrugs his shoulders.

“Well, they said they’d call me.”

“Let’s hope for the best,” Mark says and Donghyuck hums in agreement. 

They lay there in silence for a while. Mark attempts to count the stars but always gives up around twenty. It’s bugging in his mind, the kiss, or the attempt at it. He wants to bring it up, maybe just so Donghyuck can tell him it was a joke and can kill his hope. 

“There’s another thing you said,” Mark says and prays to God his voice doesn’t break. Donghyuck is silent for a second.

“I tried to kiss you,” he says. 

It takes Mark off guard. 

“I thought you didn’t remember,” he sputters. The stars blur into one big mess. 

Donghyuck laughs but it’s low and a little flat. 

“Well, I do, and I remember that you stopped me,” he says. 

Mark can feel the tight feeling in his lungs rise up again but all words have disappeared from his mind. 

“I—,” Mark starts but Donghyuck interrupts him. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking, I was drunk,” he says, “I’m not gay.” 

“But I am.”

It just spills from his mouth before Mark can stop it and the mortifying feeling is taking all over his body. He sits up, heart beating anxiously. 

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he mutters, too afraid to look at Donghyuck. He should go, he should go. 

“Why didn’t you let me kiss you, then?” Donghyuck asks and he sounds so small. 

“Because you were fucking wasted!” Mark half-says, half-yells and turns to him. He can feel himself growing angry, all the bent up frustration rising to the brim. “Because I fucking like you and well, like you said, you’re not a fucking faggot like me. And I’m _sorry.”_

He has no idea why his eyes are getting wet but he refuses to let any tears spill, the corners of his mouth turned downwards to an ugly frown, breath coming out in shuddering takes. Donghyuck looks at him with round eyes and sits up quickly. He tries to touch Mark’s face but he flinches away. 

“Mark,” Donghyuck says sternly, “shut up.”

“What?” He asks dumbfoundedly. 

“Shut the fuck up.”

Mark doesn’t say anything and it’s more from the confusion his reaction caused than him doing as told. This time when Donghyuck puts his palm on Mark’s cheek, he doesn’t flinch away. He leans close and Mark still doesn’t escape. 

Donghyuck kisses him and Mark doesn’t know how to act. He pulls away after indulging himself a second. 

“You just said you weren’t gay,” Mark says, voice accusatory. 

“I like girls too,” Donghyuck says, “and I didn’t want you to think lowly of me, just in case.” 

Mark blinks, finding himself at a loss of words again. 

“I like you, you idiot,” Donghyuck says it in simpler terms. 

And it’s so fucking weird because even for all the wishful thinking, Mark didn’t really think it’d be possible. Mostly because he’s just Mark and Donghyuck is the cool, charming Donghyuck. 

“You aren’t joking?” Mark asks. Donghyuck grabs his hand and holds it tightly.

“Fuck no,” he shakes his head with a stupid grin on his face. Mark doesn’t know what to do. 

“What the hell,” he mutters under his breath. 

“Will you let me kiss you now?” Donghyuck asks, all bold and blunt. Mark feels himself flush a little. 

“How can you just ask that?” He stutters. Donghyuck shrugs his shoulders as a response.

“I just can,” he says. 

“Okay,” Mark says and leaves out the _I don’t really know how_ because it’s true, he hasn’t kissed anyone, if the peck a minute ago doesn’t count.

It’s awkward, Mark can’t deny it, the way Donghyuck leans close and puts his hands on Mark’s face and how he places his own on Donghyuck’s hips because he doesn’t really know where to put them. Suddenly all the positions and whatnot he has seen in films and porn vanish from his mind. 

But the way Donghyuck kisses him is so sweet. Under the stars too, and Mark would be lying if the ugly cliché didn't make him feel a little funny in a good way. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Mark can’t stop kissing him. 

That’s what he learns during the next week. It’s one of those things where after the urge has been denied so long, now that he finally is allowed to do so, he keeps finding himself in a liplock with Donghyuck everytime they are alone. 

Like now, for instance. 

They’re sitting on top of Mark’s bed, arms tangled around each other. Music is playing from his stereo, an album Donghyuck had bought with him. The band’s name was something along the lines of panicking at the club but Mark doesn’t really know, care or care to remember.

“I got the job,” Donghyuck says between the kisses. His hand is in Mark’s hair, holding the strands gently. 

“Congratulations,” he says, pushing against Donghyuck a little too firmly because he loses his balance and falls on his back on the bed, taking Mark down with him. Their foreheads knock against each other and they burst out in laughter. 

“Ow,” Donghyuck whines.

“I’m sorry,” Mark laughs and kisses his forehead. 

“You’re forgiven,” he says and wraps his arms around Mark’s waist, hugging him close. 

The things is, Donghyuck makes him feel lovable. To some degree, at least. It’s a little bit messed up and Mark knows it—but to have someone he looks up to and admires want him, like really, _want_ him, is mind boggling and makes him feel warm. 

It’s a little difficult to try to stay unbothered when Donghyuck’s tongue is sliding against his and their bodies are pressed tightly against each other. It’s a tad bit embarrassing. And Donghyuck must notice—his sweats can’t conceal much.

“Excited?” He asks and Mark looks at him, eyes going a little cross-eyed.

“Ah, sorry,” he chuckles awkwardly. 

“You apologize too often,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “don’t. Me too.”

He pulls him back down to kiss him and this time, they don’t stop. 

It all happens fast, clumsy hands trying to open the button of Donghyuck’s jeans, teeth clinking into each other. Hands everywhere and nowhere at the same time. 

It all happens fast, first telling Donghyuck he likes guys, then kissing him, then not being able to stop, then losing his virginity.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Mark isn’t exactly sure if they are dating. 

It seems like it, sure, because they do the same things they used to but now with a lot of more touching. And Mark feels better, in general. Happier, almost. It’s strange because he never thought himself as unhappy. 

They haven’t just talked about it. Maybe they should but there’s this small, irrational fear that what if Donghyuck says no, he doesn’t want to date him. 

They’re at a McDonald’s, out of all places. It’s not really the most romantic place but it’s what they do.

“Is this a date?” Mark asks, after having mustered up the courage. They’re sitting in a corner table, far from everyone else, and Donghyuck is fiddling with the blue game console he got with a happy meal. 

“Uh,” Donghyuck says dumbly, “I don’t know.” 

Turns out he is as lost as Mark is. There’s something like comfort in knowing that. Mark pics up his cola and takes a drink through the straw. 

“Would you like it to be?” Mark asks, despite it being a little difficult for him to be as straightforward and not so cowardly. Donghyuck cocks his brow.

“Of course. I thought that’d be like, you know, obvious,” he says. 

“Oh,” Mark mumbles and looks down to his lap. 

“You really are insecure,” Donghyuck says, and it doesn’t sound judgemental or mean, just an innocent statement. He shrugs his shoulders. What is there to say to that? 

“I guess,” he says. He hates admitting to it like this. 

Donghyuck looks a little sad and he would rather just look away and pretend he doesn’t see it. It makes him so wildly uncomfortable. He knows he’s nothing special, just Mark, and it’s not anything worthy of crying over. 

“Maybe if you could see yourself through my eyes,” Donghyuck says, it’s like a suggestion but also not since well, it’s not an achievable thing. He looks at the red streak in Donghyuck’s fringe, the newest change to his appearance, if the hickeys hiding under the plasters on his neck do not count. 

“I’d see that I am in fact a little rat,” Mark jokes, just to make the situation a little lighter. 

Donghyuck pouts and shakes his head. 

“No, you idiot. You’d see that I love yo—” he says but stops in his tracks, “shit.”

Mark blinks. It doesn’t require much thinking to figure out what Donghyuck was about to say. 

“You love me?” Mark asks. It’s disgusting, the way how it sounds so vulnerable. 

“Of course! I just didn’t mean to say it yet,” Donghyuck sigh, “I suck at this.”

Mark smiles and looks down. He shoves a few fries into his mouth but he just can’t stop smiling. Donghyuck loves him. Donghyuck loves him. 

“I do too, for the record,” he says quietly, “if you hadn’t figured that out yet.”

“Neat,” Donghyuck says and it makes him burst out laughing.

“Neat?” He laughs. 

“Absolutely,” he says, “so fucking cool. Ten out of ten, would recommend being loved by Mark Lee.”

He wants to crawl under the table to hide his idiotic grin and the slight blush on his cheeks. He shoves more fries into his mouth.

“Stop, you menace,” he grins. 

“Never,” Donghyuck says, “you have to put up with this for the rest of your life.” 

Mark doesn’t think about the implications of that and just laughs more, butterflies in his stomach. 

“Alright, alright. I think I’ll manage,” he says. Donghyuck just makes him feel so damn good. 

They eat in silence, for a moment. Donghyuck plays with the McDonald’s game console and Mark pulls out his phone to play _Snake II._ It’s nice to just be like this, since in two weeks his school is starting again and Donghyuck’s going to be more busy with his work.

“I decided to move in with my dad,” Donghyuck says suddenly, “he’s fine with it, too.” 

“Hey, that’s really great,” Mark says and lifts his gaze to him. 

“Right? He told me he’d try to drink less, I’m surprised he was even able to admit to it. But we’ll see whether he does it or not.”

“At least he’s trying.”

“Exactly my point,” Donghyuck says with a smile. He seems happier, too. Mark knows his parents’ divorce had been hard on him but he thinks he has made his peace with it, if nothing else. 

Mark puts his phone down and his hand on the table, palm up, and Donghyuck places his hand in his. He can’t hold his hand in public, for multiple reasons, but he doubts anyone will notice them. 

“And your mom?” Mark asks.

“Nothing has changed there. Her boyfriend will move in, that’s for sure now, and it still makes me a little sick. Does that make me a bad person?” 

Donghyuck’s question seems genuine. He takes a second to think about it and then shakes his head.

“I think it’s only natural for you to feel like that. If she really did cheat on your dad, it’s not just a betrayal of his trust but yours too.”

“You’re smarter than you let on, do you know that?” Donghyuck says this with a proud smile. 

“You and my mom are probably the only people who think that,” he smiles shortly and puts fries in his mouth, again, just so he doesn’t have to speak. 

“Ah, here you go again, the insecurities! You wanna get spanked or what?”

Mark chokes on his food.

Donghyuck stares at him with a curious look in his eyes.

“An interesting reaction,” he says. 

Mark throws a fry at him and it hits him straight in the face.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


So the next time when Mark falls on the ramp and busts his knee open, he doesn’t only get a fun plaster from Donghyuck but a kiss too. That’s what changes after the first time Donghyuck calls him his boyfriend. 

And honestly, for the time being, it’s more than he could ask for. Sure, he's still just Mark but for the first time in a while, he's starting to think that maybe that's enough.

That's pretty damn cool. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ahgdhsg this is so stooopiiiid screams. i wrote this in a day. [REST]  
> one day i'll write something with an actual plot. today is not that day. thank u for reading, and like always, pls leave a comment and let me know what u thought! ily!


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